After a really interesting conversation about Marie Kondo and how her philosophies translate to American life, my friend and I began questioning other interior design and lifestyle trends. Some are very much marks of privilege, and while we greatly respect Marie Kondo, the reality was that people in insecure financial situations save things not necessarily because they spark joy, but because they might be needed later.
This brought my brain swinging to the eco-chic, thrift-inspired end of the spectrum. Was glorifying the shabby a way to market the trappings of rural poverty? When is a distressed table a social statement against throw-away culture, and when is it simply a piece making do? Does shabby chic empower those who can't afford new furniture, or is it an aesthetic elevated by boutique culture? Word on the street is that it began in the 80s as a response to the rising exclusivity in the middle class, with polished brass and sleek marble. English Bohemians pulled inspiration from manor houses to create spaces of old money elegance, bedecked with worn, seasoned pieces. It was an artistic statement as much as a social one.
I had a lot of questions, so I turned to apparently one of the most well-known voices in the industry, this one echoing from my 90s childhood. And boy, the 90s are strong with this one! Those florals, the palettes, the fashion!
It's clear that Ashwell is buying for customers and creating sets of sorts, with photos showing fairly minimal clean spaces with these carefully-placed pieces. The children's rooms especially struck me as remarkably controlled. Who LIVES here, I wondered? Where are the toys, the clothing, the things that don't speak Shabby Chic? Please tell me your child is allowed to live outside the confines of the distressed mid-century dresser and reclaimed built-in? It's clear that this is a world in which friends and family appreciate the lifestyle, too, and are more than happy to receive thoughtful gifts wrapped in embroidered napkins and vintage silk flowers. (I'm not sure my friends would know what to do with these things after receiving them. They certainly wouldn't fit in their homes.)
But, on the whole, I did also get the feel for Ashwell's process, which is more in tune with sprawling flea markets and not so much the suburban thrifting most of us are used to. Her finds are worlds away from what I'd find hanging up on the wall at Savers or sitting in Salvation Army. There is a spirit of reusing things in the face of throw-away culture, but not yet with the heavy focus on environmentalism that the modern Etsy culture has encouraged. But it does give great insight into building guidelines for yourself, as well as the work potentially needed to elevate some pieces to usable status. (There's only a bit of how-to with all that.)
Looking at her current brand, though, she definitely became luxury couture, selling vintage serving plates for over $100 with one listing giving no additional information on the item's make or history. So, let that be your sign that her style was really always aiming up to sell to the wealthy and not so much the average person. Vintage dressers and side tables priced at over $1k... Yeesh.
There are some good tips and it's clearly presented. It just bothers me that they make it look so easy to find treasures at flea markets, etc., when in reality it's a lot of junk or, if it's not, they want an arm and a leg for stuff.
The top review has hit this book on the nail. While this book is fun to look at, it really is quite privileged. I love that Rachel is not a gatekeeper with her favorite flea market/antique shops, but it’s hard to erase from your mind that this is her job, and most people do not have the time to work on or find furniture like she does. I love the style, but cannot seem to push aside just how unrealistic it is and the “simplistic” yet requires a ton of work motto.
This isn't a bad book. I love all the color photographs and seeing the styles created by Rachel Ashwell. The only problem I have is that there are very few totally awesome flea markets available to me living in Florida.
Also, this book is geared more to the posh $$ kind of flea market attender and not just someone trying to find fun and funky things/thrifter kind of person. It's not about thrifting for Rachel Ashwell, it's all about furnishing her business. Which is not a bad thing at all. I personally love her current furniture collection all based on the Shabby Chic trend.
It is an enjoyable picture book more than anything to me. It does have it's inspirations, like teaming up a 1950s sweater from a sweater set with a pair of jeans, or turning an old doctor's office medicine cabinet into a bedroom wardrobe.
I do not like anything called shabby or chic. I had to read this book in self-defense. My wife is always trying to sneak this stuff into the house. Just today, I spotted a white lace ceramic plate protruding from the plant ledge.
I suggest that you must do this to do it correctly. This book is very helpful in not only what to combine, but also where to find it. Pay close attention to the resources in chapter 8. Rachel does not skimp on the color pictures and several views of the same thing.
If you attempt this without a guide, you will end up with shabby trash. Imagine a leopard sofa next to a red wall.
This is a really lovely book, just not my style. The book is more about how Ms. Ashwell styles her showrooms and stores, and less about how the average homeowner would decorate her home. But the photography is lovely and Ms. Ashwell is authoritative, yet conversational. Would highly recommend to someone whose personal style mirrors the Shabby Chic life.
I love the concept -- find great stuff, save money and create a unique, cozy interior. Some of the tips are fairly obvious, for example get there early or bargain fairly. Still... coffee table style with substance.